


"Say You Won't Let Go"

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Drinking, Kinda, M/M, drink responsibly, hux is gay, hux now gets wasted, kylo gets wasted, totally and unashamedly gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hux hates parties, but bathtubs are really nice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur if you want an idea of where the inspiration came from for this fic

Hux usually hated parties.

 

They were an amalgamation of several things he hated: loud noises, drunk people, a complete lack of boundaries by everyone, and that was only scraping the surface. However, if there was one thing that drew Hux out of his dorm room without Phasma dragging him by the arm, it was free food and alcohol. Like many other college students, anything that was free immediately caught his attention, and he was rarely shy about getting his fair share of whatever it was. Food most especially was a dealbreaker. So, when Phasma told him there would be a party that Friday night with at least two tables full of food and a makeshift bar, the only question he asked was whether it was close enough to walk.

 

So, yes, Hux usually hated parties. But he loved free stuff.

 

Which was why he found himself pleasantly buzzed at midnight in some stranger’s house that Friday, an empty paper plate dangling from his fingers as he wandered around the house. Music was blaring from a surprisingly nice setup in the living room and people milled around inside and out, many holding red plastic cups or similar paper plates as the one he had. The bar had been set up in the kitchen with all the food and Hux had already made several trips himself, deciding to take a short break after he saw one guy puke everything back up in the pool outside. He was definitely drunk, but not completely wasted like some of the other people there, so he considered himself sober enough to manage on his own. Phasma was nowhere to be found anyways.

 

Hux estimated that he had wandered around the main floor of the house at least five times, trying to sober himself a little, so he decided to mix it up by climbing the stairs that led to the upper floor. He knew the basement was being used as a type of dance floor, and he didn’t want to hang around the pool just in case someone shoved him in on accident, or on purpose, so upstairs it was. He stumbled a little on the stairs, but he otherwise climbed them without trouble, avoiding the couple that was groping each other halfway up. It was surprisingly quiet compared to downstairs, the music muffled by the carpeted floors and thick walls. Hux found it welcoming as he located a bathroom and fumbled his way inside, having only stumbled upon two couples in the midst of some inappropriate acts.

 

He felt along the wall for the lightswitch and blinked the spots from his eyes once he switched it up, the harsh light a bit sudden from the lower lighting in the hallway. Satisfied that he could see now, Hux leaned against the sink and braced his hands on the counter, exhaling slowly through his nose. The vodka he had found about an hour earlier still lingered on his tongue, the taste of vanilla having been surprisingly strong despite its alcoholic content. He couldn’t remember what had happened to the bottle, but someone probably just took it from him to finish it off. He now used the water from the faucet to rinse out the taste, his tongue feeling heavy and awkward in his mouth.

 

There was an odd tremor to his fingers, but he ignored it as he used the lingering wetness to comb away the hair that had fallen in his face. He had applied a little product before Phasma had met up with him, but it obviously hadn’t done much in keeping the red strands in place. Too drunk to be overly vain, Hux turned off the faucet and continued to stare at his own reflection. He considered going back out into the fray, but it was quiet in the bathroom and he liked the calmness, so he decided to stay for a little while longer. It was a nice bathroom, by typical standards. Granite counter, a big mirror, a tub that looked like it had jets in it, everything clean and modest in coloring. Hux imagined having a bathroom like this in the future, smiling a little at the thought that Millicent would definitely hate the jets in the tub. She liked being in the bathroom when he took a bath for whatever reason, and the jets would probably startle her.

 

Turning to look at the bathtub properly, Hux noticed it was rather deep and definitely big enough for two people at least. Why that stuck out to him, he wasn’t certain, but at the same time he knew exactly why it was of interest. He approached the tub curiously and lightly ran his fingers along the edge, the porcelain smooth and cool under his skin. It would feel nice to lay in, to help get rid of the flush he felt on his face. With that idea in mind, Hux removed his shoes and climbed into the empty tub, settling down with his cheek pressed against the cool surface. It was nice, just as he had thought originally, and it helped clear his head the longer he laid there.

 

Maybe he was more drunk than he had thought.

 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the door to the bathroom was shoved open, the person responsible stumbling for the toilet and promptly throwing up into it. Hux blinked as he heard the door fall shut, the force with which it was thrown open making it knock against the wall and swing back into place. He remained quiet as he listened to his new bathroom companion puke into the toilet, noting when they stopped and were able to simply breathe. He wondered if he should make his presence known, not quite visible with how deep the bathtub was, but was saved from his decision when the stranger spoke up.

 

“What the fuck are you doing in the bathtub?”

 

Hux blinked once, twice, before responding with, “I’m drunk.”

 

He heard the stranger snort in what he assumed was amusement. “Yeah, me too.”

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“I was here first.”

 

Hux heard the stranger, he assumed a guy, groan before retching into the toilet again, unable to respond properly. He waited another minute before finally pulling himself up with the edge of the tub, peering over the side to examine his companion. The guy was on his knees hunched over the toilet, shoulders tense as he retched again and let out another miserable groan. His hair was dark and hung around his face, preventing Hux from getting a good view of his face, and was obviously in the way of the other’s puking. Hux thought of holding it out of the other’s face so he wouldn’t get vomit in his hair, and climbed out of the tub once he decided that was a good idea.

 

He waited until the other was done with his second round of puking before carefully using his hands to gather the dark hair, combing it neatly away from the guy’s face and holding it at the back of his head. Despite being a bit sweaty, the guy’s hair was surprisingly soft and well taken care of, curling a little at the ends. Hux stared at it between his fingers, blinking slowly as he wondered what kind of conditioner the guy used. He had thought he took care of his own hair rather well, but it was nothing like this.

 

Hux was distracted from his train of thought when the guy glanced over his shoulder at him, allowing Hux to see at least part of his face. A prominent nose, a few beauty marks, large lips. His eyes were dark, probably brown, and despite being bloodshot were rather mesmerizing. Those lips were turned up in a smile, expression soft and open for a few brief seconds before the guy was jerking forward to throw up again.

 

In those few seconds, Hux felt completely sober.

 

Even as the guy continued to puke into the toilet, even as Hux continued to hold his hair back, he felt his heart stop and restart in the completely cliche manner he had heard about from television. It wasn’t as ridiculous as love at first sight, but it was - Something.  _ Something.  _ He didn’t know what to call it, only that it made him want to stay exactly where he was and continue holding this guy’s hair just so he could stay near him. It was stupid and Hux knew it was, especially since he didn’t even know the guy’s name, but in that moment he didn’t care. Maybe once he was properly sober and drinking coffee the next morning he would, but for now he didn’t.

 

Hux simply remained crouching behind the stranger, holding his hair, and listening to him puke into the toilet. It wasn’t how he imagined spending his night, but it was more interesting than anything else.

 

\-------------

 

It wasn’t until a few days and one hangover later that Hux thought of the stranger again.

 

His memory was a little fuzzy regarding that night, but he did remember leaving the guy alone in the bathroom to go get him a cup for water. Hux had procured an empty plastic cup just for that purpose and was making his way back when Phasma found him, successfully coercing him into taking a few shots of tequila. From there Hux couldn’t remember much, only that they had stumbled back to the campus together and fallen asleep in Phasma’s dorm, Hux on the futon and Phasma in her bed.

 

He had woken up the next morning around noon to the sound of Phasma’s snoring and with an awful taste in his mouth.

 

They had the weekend to recover and nurse their respective hangovers, and it wasn’t until Monday that Hux remembered the guy he had helped in the bathroom. And he only remembered him because he walked into him; quite literally.

 

Hux had stopped to get something hot to drink before his first class that day, walking into the campus coffee shop with his eyes on his phone. Phasma had texted him requesting details about his ‘mysterious’ bathroom friend, something he had refrained from telling her about until that morning. He was just typing out a response when he collided with another person, almost dropping his phone and letting out a small, surprised gasp.

 

A hand grabbed his bicep to steady him, keeping him from stumbling too much, and he took in a breath before lifting his gaze to the person’s face.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry. You okay there?”

 

Hux felt like he couldn’t breathe. Of course it would be the same guy from the party. Of course that guy would go to the same college, and obviously he would work at the campus coffee place. And of course he would look even more amazing in proper daylight and when he wasn’t puking his guts out.

 

The guy had his hair tied back in a bun he actually managed to pull off and was wearing the typical uniform of the workers in the shop - dark jeans with a t-shirt sporting the logo of the shop. He was only about two inches taller than Hux, but he was broader and his biceps were something to be admired. He had an amused smile on his face and his hand lingered on Hux’s arm for a few extra seconds before withdrawing, still waiting for Hux to respond.

 

Feeling his face start to flush, Hux managed a short, “I’m fine.”

 

The smile that he was given in response seemed genuine, the guy nodding his head once as if to confirm what he had heard.

 

“Good, wouldn’t want to get sued or anything,” he joked, making Hux’s heart stutter inappropriately. “Have a nice day.”

 

Hux watched as he turned away and walked towards the front counter, admiring the broad expanse of his shoulders for a moment before it hit him.

 

The guy didn’t remember him.

 

It made sense, in all reality. The guy had been more drunk than he had been, hence why he had gone running for a bathroom, and that was probably why he didn’t remember the stranger who had held his hair back while he puked. Hux hadn’t left any lasting impression, and he certainly hadn’t left anything like his name or number, so really it was understandable.

 

But Hux still felt sick to his stomach as he watched the guy disappear into the back room.

 

Hux remembered the guy’s smile clearly, the moment forever trapped in his memory. The sweat that had been on his forehead, how chapped his lips had been, the rather disgusting smudge of vomit at the corner of his mouth - Hux remembered everything. But obviously, the other guy didn’t.

 

Maybe it wasn’t love, but it certainly hurt like it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux drinks away his problems like any other perfectly functioning adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta per usual

His name was Ren.

 

At least, that’s what his nametag said.

 

After his discovery of where Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome - as Phasma had come to call him - worked, Hux found himself struggling to justify each visit he made to the little coffee shop. He refused to admit he was pining after a guy he barely knew. He had held the guy’s hair once and tried to procure him a cup of water to no avail; to most people, it would be an experience to forget. For Hux, however, hyperfixation was one of his specialties. Falling head over heels for a cute guy he had no chance with and going to his place of work at least twice a week just to see his face? Right up his alley.

 

Luckily for him, the guy never seemed to recognize him, or if he did he didn’t say anything about it which Hux was grateful for. Despite past encounters, he wasn’t a fan of confrontation and did his best to avoid it. And being confronted by his stupid crush about why he had such a sudden interest in the coffee shop was hard to explain away. Hux was content to get his drink of choice, sneak a few glances at  _ Ren _ , and then be on his way with butterflies flitting about in his stomach the entire time.

 

By avoiding his feelings, he thus avoided the all too probable polite decline he would get and the pitying look of someone who thought him desperate. He avoided any unnecessary heartbreak and the stress of an actual relationship, able to focus his energy elsewhere such as his classes. What he couldn’t avoid was the heavy weight he felt when he saw Ren flirting with a girl one day, watching from his spot in line as the girl leaned against the pick-up counter while waiting for Ren to make her drink. He couldn’t help the way his anxiety twisted his insides into knots when Ren took his order for the first time, smiling at him from behind the register and making Hux’s ears turn red. One time he ordered a pumpkin spice latte, craving something sweet, and Ren had jokingly said it was a perfect match for him, “Some ginger spice for a ginger.” Hux had been too flustered to properly respond, and Phasma had claimed he was blushing for the rest of the day.

 

Maybe he wasn’t avoiding his feelings in the best way, and maybe it wasn’t good for his mental state, but it was better than embarrassing himself by admitting his stupid infatuation.

 

Phasma took it upon herself to help him cope; meaning she took him out every weekend without fail and got him drunk. She introduced him to a few new guys, all attractive in their own ways, and tried to coax him into getting laid so he could move past his fixation. The resulting hangovers were rarely worth the trouble, and Hux often found himself alone at whatever parties or bars they went to regardless of what Phasma did. But they continued doing it anyways. The alcohol relaxed him and made him forget Ren for a few hours, so he considered it a win.

 

A responsible, safe coping mechanism? Hardly, but the alcohol was usually free, making it far simpler than anything else.

 

It was at another such party, a few weeks before finals week, that he joined the majority of the student population in drinking away his stress and anxiety while trying to forget the hell that was coming. There was free food and plenty of alcohol to go around, so Hux indulged voraciously, ignoring the concerned look Phasma sent his way at one point during the night. He drank a few cocktails, several shots of vodka, and enough shitty beer to make everything fuzzy around the edges. He could have sworn he was seeing double at one point, and the cup of water Phasma eventually pushed into his hands tasted oddly like cherries. She coerced him into eating a few handfuls of chips, but his body didn’t seem to like that and he soon found himself stumbling into the first bathroom he could find.

 

The bile rose quickly in his throat, burning and bringing tears to his eyes as he kicked the door closed behind him and collapsed on the floor. He only just shoved the toilet seat up in time to have the alcohol he had consumed come rushing back up. It came in quick, unforgiving waves, making his body convulse with each retch. He broke out in a cold sweat at some point and his hair fell into his eyes, too short to be dirtied by his vomit but still long enough to be a bother. When his body finally deigned to give him a break, he pressed his forehead against the white porcelain, fingers relaxing the white-knuckled grip he had had on the toilet edge.

 

Hux wasn’t certain how much time passed as he sat there in a slight daze, but he startled when a voice said, “Holy shit.”

 

He tried to whip around to see who had spoken, but the sudden movement made his stomach clench and he had to turn back to the toilet again, feeling dizzy. The voice spoke again, sounding frantic as it said, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- Shit, hold on.”

 

There was some movement behind him and Hux wondered if he was about to be killed in a bathroom. It wasn’t likely; someone with a voice that pretty wouldn’t kill another person. It was a nice, low voice, one that reminded Hux of a blunt object oddly enough. He couldn’t figure out why exactly and didn’t care to do so anyways. His head hurt too much.

 

Fingers suddenly carded through his hair and Hux blinked his eyes a few times, the red strands moved away from his damp forehead to clear his vision somewhat. He jolted when the toilet was flushed, a long arm reaching around him to push down the small lever. The swirl of the toilet water sent away his vomit, distracting him from the hand stroking his hair for a moment. Once the water had settled, he realized another hand was slowly moving up and down his back as well.

 

Hux coughed, throat raw and burning, and shifted to turn and look at the person with him. “What are you-”

 

The words died on his tongue. Even in his drunken state, he could recognize Ren, his dark hair and eyes. The other man paused his comforting petting, looking at Hux with wide eyes and a look of bewilderment.

 

“I can’t believe I found you.” Ren said after a moment of silence.

 

Hux blinked. “What?”

 

“I found you!” Ren repeated, almost excitedly. “You’re that bathtub ginger!”

 

A pause.

 

“I’m the what?”

 

Ren removed his hands from Hux to gesture towards the bathtub that had gone unnoticed by Hux until that moment. “You were in a bathtub when I met you! I thought you might go to one again, so I waited and I found you!”

 

Hux stared at him, blinked again, and stared a little more. The vomiting had sobered him at least a little, so he was able to tell that Ren was drunk, but his words still didn’t seem to make any sense. He didn’t know what the bathtub had to do with anything. Maybe Ren had a thing for porcelain and bathing. Hux wouldn’t mind the bathing part since that would mean Ren was clean, at least. Maybe he would be open to shower sex.

 

Hux shook his head, trying to clear his head a little. “Wait, you know me?”

 

Ren had reached out to pet Hux’s hair again, a movement Hux leaned into without thinking. “Yeah, kinda. I don’t know your name, but I knew you were a redhead.”

 

“I’m confused. Were you in the bathtub?”

 

“Yeah, cause you were there last time.”

 

“I was?”

 

“Yup.”

 

Hux frowned and licked his dry lips, grimacing at the taste of bile that lingered in his mouth. Ren ripped off a bit of toilet paper with his free hand and reached forward to wipe his mouth, surprisingly gentle. Once he was done, he deposited the toilet paper in the little trash can sitting by the toilet.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Hux asked, watching Ren’s face.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Are there two of you?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Hux was starting to see double again and he watched both Ren’s frown in confusion, a hand moving to cup his cheek. Ren opened his mouth to respond when the bathroom door flew open behind him, revealing a concerned Phasma and some guy behind her with a nice jawline.

 

“Hux, what the  _ fuck _ ?” Phasma asked, eyes widening with her concern.

 

Hux opened his mouth to respond and proceeded to vomit into Ren’s lap.

 

\---

 

He didn’t remember passing out, but Hux found himself waking up in a bed that wasn’t his and with a migraine that pulsed behind his eyes.

 

Staring up at the dark ceiling, he struggled to remember what had happened the night before and came up with only vague recollections of getting properly wasted. He promised himself that he wouldn’t ever drink like that again as he slowly sat up, looking around the room he was in.

 

It was mostly clean, only a few pieces of clothing thrown carelessly on the floor, with a desk shoved in one corner and a dresser standing next to it. The windows were covered with curtains, hiding the sunlight that shone around the edges, and the closet was partially open to his right, revealing a collection of mostly dark clothing. The nightstand by his elbow held a lamp, a book, and a glass of water with two small pills next to it. Hux blinked in surprise and pushed himself up more, gladly taking the pills he recognized as tylenol and swallowed them with the water.

 

He couldn’t remember getting here, but no soreness in his body suggested it had been some fling he found at the party. His shirt wasn’t his own, instead some baggy t-shirt displaying a band he didn’t recognize, and he was in his boxers, but otherwise modest without any unidentifiable dried fluids on his person.

 

Hux was distracted from his attempts to piece together his situation when the bedroom door cracked open, letting in a stream of light from the hall beyond. He squinted briefly against the light and watched the silhouette of a person peak into the room, obviously checking on him.

 

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” The person said, sounding relieved. “Phasma was worried about alcohol poisoning.”

 

Hux’s brow furrowed at the statement. “Phasma is here?”

 

“Oh, yeah. She wouldn’t let you go anywhere without her. I just lived closer, otherwise you would be at her dorm.”

 

Hux’s eyes finally adjusted to the new light source and his heart jumped upon recognizing Ren, standing in the doorway with his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. His hair was tied back in a bun, keeping it away from his face, and his t-shirt depicted the same name of the band on Hux’s shirt.

 

“I’m Ren, by the way, but you already knew that.”

 

Hux’s stomach lurched and he choked out a panicked, “What?”

 

Ren smiled in what seemed to be amusement, eyebrow quirking up. “I recognize you from the coffee shop. I tend to have a better memory when I’m sober.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

“Come on, we should get some food in you. Phasma will want to make sure you’re alive, too.”

 

“Wait-” Hux clutched the now empty glass in one hand, his other curling into the blanket pooled around his waist. “Where are my clothes?”

 

Ren rubbed the back of his neck in what appeared to be a sheepish gesture. “They, uh, were pretty dirty. I threw them in the wash last night, but they should be dry by now.”

 

Hux nodded, accepting this answer when he recalled vomiting into a toilet. “Right.”

 

The other man waited a few moments before turning to leave the room, leaving Hux to slide out of bed and stand on unsteady legs. He didn’t feel like throwing up immediately upon standing, something he considered an accomplishment, so he slowly made his way to the door.

 

The hall was short with only one other door leading into what Hux saw was the bathroom upon peeking inside. It ended by opening up into the main living space where Phasma sat on the couch, a cup of coffee held between her hands. Ren was standing in the adjacent kitchen area, back to Hux as he worked at the stove. The smells of bacon and eggs filled the air as Hux shuffled in, his stomach rumbling loudly. Phasma, with ears like a cat, immediately turned to look at him, eyebrows raising at his appearance.

 

“So, Millie won’t end up being a foster child,” she announced.

 

“Oh, shut up,” Hux growled.

 

“Millie?” Ren asked, dishing up three plates of food.

 

“His cat,” Phasma explained. “Or rather his adopted daughter.”

 

Ren made a noncommittal noise and Hux watched him set the three plates on the counter, each heaped with eggs and at least three pieces of bacon. His mouth watered at the smell alone, feeling embarrassed when Ren glanced up to give him a knowing smile.

 

“Well, breakfast is served,” the larger man stated, turning to wash his hands in the sink. “Help yourselves.”

 

Hux didn’t hesitate to take the biggest plate, leaving the water glass he had brought from the bedroom in its place on the counter. Phasma elbowed him as she came up next to him, taking her own plate. Hux dutifully ignored her and took a seat on the couch, balancing his plate on his knees before digging in.

 

It wasn’t the most awkward situation he had found himself in after waking up with a hangover, but it certainly wasn’t the most tame either. Phasma sat next to Hux on the couch to eat while Ren sat in one of the mismatched armchairs, the conversation next to none as they all ate their breakfast. Hux tried not to seem too obvious when he snuck a few glances around the apartment, taking in Ren’s living space as much as he could. His eyes were mostly drawn to the bookshelf shoved in one corner, shelves stuffed full of various books. He couldn’t read the titles from his vantage point on the couch, but he could have sworn a few weren’t in english.

 

“Well,” Phasma stood from her place next to him as he was scraping up the last of his eggs. “Since you’re alive, I think we should go make sure Millie didn’t destroy your furniture.”

 

“She wouldn’t do that,” Hux huffed. “She’s well-behaved.”

 

“Sure, when you get home on time. It’s almost two in the afternoon, she’s probably starving.”

 

“ _ What? _ ”

 

Hux was on his feet in an instant, searching out the nearest clock to confirm Phasma’s statement. The numbers  **1:45 PM** stared back at him from the digital clock sitting on the kitchen counter.

 

“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” Hux asked while hurrying to drop his plate in the sink, spying his wallet, keys, and phone sitting near fridge.

 

“Well, gee, I wanted to make sure you recovered from your nasty little episode last night.” Phasma replied, rolling her eyes.

 

“You know Millicent is far more important!”

 

“I know you love your cat way too damn much, that’s what. She isn’t going to starve by missing breakfast by a few hours.”

 

Hux scowled and turned away from her, remembering that Ren was still in the same room as them when he spotted the other man watching the two argue. His heart helpfully jumped into his throat and his ears turned red. Embarrassed, but no less determined to get home as soon as possible, he asked, “Where are my clothes?”

 

“I’ll get them,” Ren assured, rising from his own chair. “Just give me a minute.”

 

While Ren disappeared to retrieve his clothing, Phasma sidled up next to Hux again to mutter, “You totally climbed him like a tree last night.”

 

Hux shoved her away, moving to grab his phone and check his notifications. Phasma persisted, leaning against the counter next to him. “No, really, you clung to him like moss on a rock. Even after you puked all over him. It was fucking gross, but weirdly cute.”

 

“I puked on him?” Hux hissed, whipping around to stare at her.

 

“Yeah, that’s why your clothes were dirty. And that clinging I mentioned earlier.”

 

Hux groaned miserably and pressed his face into his hands, face properly red now. “I can’t speak to him ever again.”

 

“Isolating yourself. Good choice. I would have chosen social suicide myself, just cut ties with everyone, go out with a bang and become the hermit you were always meant to be.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Duly noted.”

 

Ren returned shortly with Hux’s clothes and showed him the bathroom so he could change, offering him mouthwash if he wanted it. Hux had to resist the urge to keep the t-shirt Ren had borrowed him because that would have been creepy, and instead just changed as quickly as possible. He rinsed his mouth out to rid himself of the lingering taste of eggs before meeting Phasma and Ren by the door.

 

“Thank you,” Hux said to the other man, feeling awkward. “For, um, everything. You didn’t have to...do that.”

 

Ren shrugged, hands tucked into his pockets. “‘S’okay, I’ve taken care of drunk friends before, so not like it was hard.”

 

“Yes, right.” Hux nodded, clearing his throat. “Well then-”

 

“Call me.”

 

Phasma snorted. Hux blinked a few times and asked, “What?”

 

“Call me. Or text, I guess. I put my number in your phone last night when you kept shoving it in my face.”

 

Hux ignored Phasma’s muffled snickering as he blushed anew, mumbling an embarrassed, “Oh.”

 

Ren grinned at him, seemingly unaffected by his shame. “I hope I’ll see you in the coffee shop, pumpkin spice.”

 

Hux’s blush didn’t diminish until he was back in his apartment, Phasma’s cackling ringing in his ears, but neither did the small smile on his face for some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at writing endings, but here ya go folks  
> The nickname Bathtub Ginger courtesy of Tototo


End file.
